25 | October | 2019 | Writing Spool

It must be nice to wake up and know that there is someone still in the bed that will wake up soon too and you will have a daytime friend. Just them lying in the warm covers still sleeping is enough for company. I’ve never known that as a consistent occurrence but I have an imagination — it’s happened a little enough to know and remember.

It must be horrible to wake up knowing that fighting will ensue and go on instead of play and that the lying there together was, all night troubled. That hasn’t ever happen even a little but I can imagine and it seems that it would break a soul. There has been tension but it was sweet because of love and not unsavory or maybe I’ve forgotten.

Dogs can move out lonely. Cats too. They usually wake up first though and require playing sooner than later and sleeping in becomes rather out of the question. But they often go back to sleeping and lying there reminding you of a friend to play with later and because they don’t speak the exact same language — it’s hard to know if they’re saying something incongruent.

The steadfast place of trees and plants with critters in their midst is not a substitute but can be some to complete empty spots with color and fragrance that allow forgetting holes were made that still might need a little mending. They die too or get disease and need more care but they can’t take up roots and leave. They honor their commitment never flinching.

Who flinched. More often than not, both did. Humans have a way of having trouble staying or if they stay, not cheating — somehow. Selfish little brats we all are — wanting everything we want. And it isn’t a matter of not speaking the same language — or is it.

The cat’s crying and meandering around consistently meowing like I should just know exactly what he is saying and I want him to quit it or learn my language. I want. Selfish little brat me. He has some need he’s trying to express and I’m busy. It’s my way or the highway except that cats don’t allow for that.

Now I see three little birds on the rim of a glass dish taking turns dipping but apparently there is too little water in it so I must quit this and go out and fill it for them. I filled three dishes just in case they each want one or so that there will be plenty for others but they aren’t selfish — they were happy taking turns. I filled all the water features everywhere. The birds fill holes too like cats and dogs but cats and dogs are softer and fit better in arms and mold to the arms that hold them. Birds don’t seem to like to do that. But they sing pretty and fly around so nicely.

Now the big stray cat is waiting at the bowl just filled with water. I suppose he wants the birds back and a little snack. I always find it hard to reason how any bird gets caught — they fly — cats can’t fly.

It’s another day to get things done and there is no one that might want things to go a different way or play. The march is on but it’s like playing all alone as I have always known just as well as others have known how nice it must be to wake up with someone still in the bed sleeping.